Ougonjidai: The Golden Age
by Diniece
Summary: Before the trials dealt to Uzumaki Naruto and his allies, there was a saga that existed long before cell 7’s very birth. During the Golden Age of Konohagakure, odium engulfed the neighboring countries. This age introduced a familiar legend: the Sannin.
1. Prologue: The Will of Fire

OUGONJIDAI: The Golden Age

**Prologue: The Will of Fire**

_A funny little world it is, when some persist when the cause is helpless_.

The countless hours of concentration was finally taking its toll on the boy's body and mind. His wet face, wrinkled in tension reflected his ambition to reach the next tremendous level. Yet… can he endure the fatigue any longer?

Only a set of three thick tails protruded, four to go. These tails were not organic, but constructed of a gathering of red, bubbling hot energy; chakra. A layer of the same crimson chakra engulfed the young man like an encasing of armor, or a contamination. A pair of long ears jutted from the boy's head in the same manner and substance as the swaying, inorganic tails. The riverbank was growing restless. As the boy's boiling energy expelled, the forces rustled the fresh water at his knees, triggering the brook to sway akin to an ocean storm. Waves of the river reflected a broken image of an inspecting orange sky.

Extended nails, sharpened fangs and scarlet glowing orbs for eyes, this transformation Naruto was undergoing appeared to be far from good-humored. No, this form was demonic in every aspect. Nevertheless he purposely summoned the monstrous power, training himself to unleash more.

Sweat forming in beads on his face thickened to streams. The severe meditation was devastating his energy. Bringing forth an inner vigor such as the Kyuubi devil was ultimately tearing at the boy's adolescent essence. His energy was wavering. Consciousness was coming to an end. He resisted giving in. Training his body and mind since dawn, he felt he wasn't finished with his routine meditation.

For Sasuke. Power was essential for retrieving his stolen ally. The only motivation that kept Naruto from dropping was the covet to see Uchiha in Konohagakure once more.

The strain was too much. In his eyes, the pine forest surrounding him was smearing. His skull was throbbing, numbing. Fading in his ears was the whistling of the airstream, the tossing of water and the eerie roar emitting from the movement of chakra. His senses were folding into nonentity, and it was maddening him.

An angered bellow to the evening sky interrupted the woods. The young voice, full of frustration and misery. Uzumaki's eyeballs rolled into his head and his dog-tired, juvenile body plunged face-first into the canal below him. Hitting the fresh water, his demonic aura dissipated as fire pitted against its rival element.

It was like the environment died just as he did. The current ceased and the wildlife faltered to chatter. Not a sound was composed.

-

Blurs of flickering reds and oranges materialized at the right corner of his vision. Then a vague impression of green and navy shades flooded into view as his eyelids fought to open. Turning his head Naruto witnessed a figure, humanoid shaped and strapping. The boy picked himself up from the cushion he was previously resting on. Details rushed into view, the reds sharpening into a neighboring fire, the green becoming overhead pines and the dark blue clearing into a late evening sky spotted in the first appearing stars.

"Hey, look who's conscious." The outlying man reacted to the awakening teenager. His features were filing from an unexplained form to a human. It was a ripe aged male with an unkempt mass of ashen hair hugging the sides of his face. Red face paint shaped as a slim stripe trailed from the lower eyelids to the base of his cheekbones. His eyes reflected historical wisdom and his build portrayed he was a robust, lofty man. The elder's smile could say something different though, that he was considerate and serene, yet full of entertainment.

"Ero-sennin?" The boy mumbled. Naruto addressed the man disrespectfully.

There was a small silence until the hermit spoke out. "You did it again, eh? A little while in the third stage and you pass out on me." He suspended a silver fish over the flame with a thin stick, charring the membrane delicately. "Oh, and my name's Jiraiya, not Ero-sennin. Get it through your head."

Ignoring Jiraiya's remark, Naruto ogled the roasting fish. The corners of his mouth watered in appetite. The sennin had detected the boy's starvation. He reached near the base of the fire and handled a stick dressed with a silver fish on the end. Uzumaki stretched his arms out longingly and with charming innocence, then accepted the meal. Eyes pinched closed and a wide grin as a display of gratefulness, Naruto hovered his feast over the blaze.

"And after this," the young blond told, "I'll prepare some more near the waterway."

"No." A very blunt, yet firm statement from the frowning Jiraiya. Uzumaki turned a sour face to the hermit.

"I'm fine. Really."

"Don't be a dunce. You've completely exhausted yourself. Wait until tomorrow afternoon."

It was unbelievable how many times the boy had heard that from his old master, ever since he accompanied him a year before. Naruto always expected the negative response, 'no.' In spite of that he urged to train after every black-out situation, although there was never any hope of him coming first in the disagreement.

The jinchuuriki boy with a thick lower lip, scowled at his right, opposite of the campfire. He hoped his sensei would uphold his disappointment, but it was doubtful. Jiraiya instead fixed a void gaze onto the combustion. It wasn't long before the strapping male's attention rolled to his secluded student. His grimace expression curled into a snug grin.

"You did well, nonetheless."

Ah, the sweet sound of appreciation rang pleasantly in the boy's ears. Naruto couldn't help but put on a huge smile after being esteemed. He almost _lived_ to earn the respect of others. "Yeah? Did I really?" It was obvious he wanted Jiraiya to be detailed with his praise.

The sennin retorted as he swiveled his meal over the flames. "Well you did keep the three tails longer than an hour this time, and you were going for four. I got to say, you're exercising that Kyuubi of yours."

"Oh, he'll listen to me soon enough." The teen also rotated his fish, still keeping his cocky beam.

"Who knows, you'll probably be able to last against _me_."

"Yeah, and Sasuke too!"

Ending his words, Uzumaki then knew what he had said. Narrowing his eyes to the base of the campfire, his optimism altered into grim. Jiraiya dropped his smile as well and dully watched his silver fish singe a little from the blaze. Dead was the campsite. Throughout the hushed moment a passing breeze was the only sense of activity. Both master and apprentice, extinct in thought, mutely saddened by the subject of the young, lost Uchiha.

"I wonder if he'll come back." The boy broke off the stillness in a meek tone.

Jiraiya leveled his food away from the fire, seeing it was nicely cooked, lightly blackened. The hermit responded before attempting to consume his catch. "Honestly, I don't think you should bet on it, Naruto. From _my_ experience."

"But," Uzumaki flashed a passionate fix onto his master. "Sasuke's different. He has to be, or I'd never respect him." The sennin was visibly stunned by the boy's quick change to solemnity. Naruto's cerulean orbs for eyes mirrored the campfire's embers. "That's why I'm working so hard. I need to get better than him. I'll show him that I'm bent on getting him back, and I grew stronger because of it. That can change him. Right?" Fervor in his expression was mixed with helplessness and melancholy.

The master looked upon his student like any compassionate sensei would. Naruto turned away to retract his fish before it completely blackened. The boy said nothing more.

Jiraiya flashed a grin. He was beginning to recognize the desperation both boys had. "You know, you're right. I shouldn't judge your charisma with that kid, but it'll be hard to get him back. He has a goal himself, after all. He's bent on getting it."

"But I'm bent on getting him back." Naruto plunged his jaws into his meal and tore a portion of tender white meat from the prey.

The sennin couldn't help himself from staring. Not from Naruto's mannerisms, but that he reminded him so much of himself in his younger days, it was almost a conspiracy. Both had yearned for attention. Both wanted to live big dreams. Both were indomitable to save their best friends from darkness. Although occasionally comical, Uzumaki possessed a determination. A fiery one, like the Young Thunder, Jiraiya, or the Yellow Flash, Yondaime. The hermit cherished it so. He knew he shouldn't have been doubting the boy before, but he was only underlining the danger.

"You know, I was just like you." Jiraiya tossed his bare stick to the side of the campsite.

Naruto seemed to narrow his gaze just as he eyed his master. "Sorry, Ero-sennin. You've always been more of a lecher than _I_ ever was. That's a department I can't beat." He continued wolfing down his fish.

"Well I didn't mean everything. That was a hobby of mine."

"Still is."

It appeared Jiraiya was deaf to the boy's comment, or was skilled in faking it. The hermit fixed a deep observation upon the sparking blaze, a sneer across his face. "You should know, I didn't rise to my fame over my 'anatomy studies'. In fact, all three of us were promising as Shinobi, thus our title. There's more to us than you think."

Uzumaki looked up from his meal. "You mean, you were good from the beginning?"

"Well, not exactly. I had to work for my brilliance. Believe me. It wasn't pretty. Especially with the instructors cracking down on me all the time, not letting me have any fun. Of course, there was my rivalry that pushed me to work harder. And Tsunade."

"Tsunade?"

The master straightened his posture to stretch his spine and lungs. Jiraiya let out a hearty sigh; his attention fixed on the overhead leaf crowns.

"Well, I suppose I should start from the beginning. It's no use telling you small pieces of the Golden Age."

"The Golden Age?" Naruto muttered while guzzling his food, perceptibly not entirely interested. He took a gulp. "Are you talking about fifty years ago?"

Jiraiya displayed a smile of fond memories and a gaze lost in them while viewing the stars. He turned away from them soon enough and to Uzumaki. "It was the best years of Konoha, and some of the worst. We were born right in the middle of it. The real cases began when I was about twelve years old---"

"Sensei?" The blond narrowed his brows in impatience. "Is this going to turn into a story of the old days?"

"Not very respectful of the Golden Age, are you? Don't worry. You won't be disappointed."


	2. The Trouble With Youth

**Chapter I: The Trouble With Youth**

The daylight star could not have blazed any more brilliantly. The capital of Konohagakure could not have stood any more proudly. From the traveling villagers to the birds in the sky, every organism was bent on their duties and regimes. A common day of labor, business and learning. Even the offspring of the Leaf were spiced with energy as they shuffled their young legs into the marketing streets beneath the warmth of the sun. The livery could instigate anyone's artistic senses and excitement.

Aloof from the animation dwelled a secluded square, built flatly atop an average edifice. The square was accessible by a bridge connected to a neighboring building, but accesses never had any meaning for Shinobi. On found peace in this trivial recreational area.

Sarutobi seized a restful place in the shadow of a healthy lilac tree. He reclined against the cherry dyed bark, handling his personal calligraphy brush and parchment with smooth strokes and wisps. Finishing the character 'trickery', he was satisfied, reference from his light smile, and started another page. Sarutobi was on the verge of his thirties. He naturally had a mature mug and rich, brown skin. The details clashed well with his dark, vigorous mane of hair. His attire was mild enough, simply a black sparring getup touched with fishnets and a small charm dressing his neck.

"Sarutobi, I seem to always find you under the same tree." Another had impeded upon the square through the bridge route. A man of war and bravery, it seemed. His silvery mane tallied with the animal fur decorating his shoulders. Cerulean samurai body armor, a face-hugging metal helm and solemn eyes of ardor, a grand soldier he must've been, and perhaps a leader.

Sarutobi looked up from the white of his manuscript and respectively to the newcomer. "Nidaime-sensei." Sarutobi addressed the Second with a grin. "How was your first international conference?"

The Kage heaved a sigh while continuing his stride to his apprentice. "I didn't expect anything more, but conversation and squabble with Cloud and Wind. Unfortunately I was right."

The Hokage had a stale expression afterwards. Was he regretting what he had said?

The student sniggered at the Second's disappointment. Nidaime had reached Sarutobi's side; peering at his learner's calligraphy from behind, he propped his left shoulder against the lilac tree, arms crossed over his chest. "And here I've always wondered what you did on your free time. No wonder you're talented with prose. You practice here all the time."

"It was the Shodai's favorite pastime," Sarutobi turned to his wake, to his lingering sensei, "and it grew on me."

The Nidaime Hokage's facade had graved from the mention of the Founder. "It seems we all picked up something from him, me taking his place in rule." There was a pause. "Sometimes I wish he was still here, even if this i _is_ /i an honorable title, but I feel it's too great for me."

"Don't do that to yourself, sensei. If there was any fellow in the world that deserved the rank Hokage, it would be you."

"That's only my humble student talking." The Second retorted with a sneer. He surveyed Sarutobi climbing to his feet, the inscription paper tucked under his arm.

"Speaking of students---" the apprentice dusted off his sleeve. "I need to see to it that all three of mine are at the academy today for a seminar. _All three of them_. "

A mystified air flushed over the Nidaime's expression. "Do you really have to see to them? They're old enough to attend by themselves." He eyed Sarutobi, who was pacing off toward the overpass.

The pupil had turned a look over his shoulder, to the Second. "Train _Jiraiya_ for a few years and you'd know why I can't leave him alone to do something for too long."

Sarutobi left his master with that and disappeared into the heart of the opposite structure. The Hokage kept his place against the mahogany trunk of the lilac tree. Ogling his student's previous presence, the Nidaime beamed.

"That bad, huh?"

-

Giggling insanely, he was. The boy slipped a line of thread through the loop of the J hook, then tied it off. _It's been awhile since my last peek_. He fastened the opposite end of the hook to a wooden pole supported between his knees.

"Have you seen the new kid?" One of the young ladies announced eagerly to the others. The five twelve-year olds reacted with pure smiles and flirty eyes.

"The Uchiha?" One with flaxen short hair and a wide smile answered back. "Yeah, I saw him."

"Wasn't he just gorgeous?" A separate girl added.

"I-I haven't seen him yet." The single dark haired lass of the group mumbled. Her hair, straight and long, veiling a portion of her features.

"Well that's not surprising, with all of that hair in your face you probably wouldn't even notice an Akimichi walk by."

Chuckling in accord like chitterling squirrels, the party of girls soon composed themselves. The dark haired young lady glanced to the floor with flushed cheeks.

Meanwhile, the head female of the group was soundlessly being approached from behind. The predator's instrument was being leveled from the sky: a fishing hook on a string. This stalker was hidden well within the vegetation of an overhead willow.

"All of you might have seen him, but I've already _talked_ to him." The leader bragged in a snobbish tone, automatically crossing her arms over her chest. The others gasped in unity. They were mad with jealousy.

"No way!"

"Are you serious?"

Flipping a lock of silky hair behind her shoulder, she carried on. "And I swear, it was like talking to an angel. You could tell he was sharp. Kind of closed off though. He barely talked to me."

"Well what did he say?"

"I just gave him a little greeting. He was like, hesitating to say something, until he complimented my friendliness." The sneer of hers had widened. "I think he likes me."

"That's not fair!"

"Lucky."

"Pfft, you're not friendly..."

"I still want to see him."

The coterie instantly became a noisy mess of chatting, squealing and gossip. The head female stood her ground, absorbing the praise and swelling her pride.

_Good girl_. Perfect. She was just where he wanted her. His apparatus was just a foot away from the rim of her pale little skirt. He observed the other ladies, then took in that the operation was proceeding silently. The hook moved in.

An intruder was scouted from his perch of leaves and limbs. _Standby_. He leveled the hook away from the group and submerged the shiny tip in a nearby cluster of grounded brush.

Fortunately for him, it was merely an old couple in marriage, innocently sauntering past at a snail's pace. They gave a small wave to the young women, then continued their trek down the tree/structure shaded street in solitude. He watched the elders travel away from the group a few meters._ Finally_.

The utensil hovered out from the shrub after a fight against a minor snag, then advanced on the lead female's skirt. Under the rim the hook went. The coterie sustained their petty assembly. "Gotcha." The predator muttered between a wide smile, eagerly gripping his timber pole to keep the line steady. It took immense skill to perform such an underhanded, yet cunning deed. It seemed that this boy had plenty of practice, observing his alertness and craft.

The hook cradled the brim gently, due to a rounded tip to avoid any trapping or damage to his prey. If he was to make a hasty escape, the utensil would simply slip away without a catch or notice.

He steered the hook to float increasingly higher with the cloth now at his mercy. Slowly being revealed was something entirely snow white and fabric.

Restraining his joy was becoming difficult. His non-stop giggles were being drowned and sputtered between his gnashing teeth; he was benefiting from the moment too much, taking in the feminine eminence and seducing air of the article. The sharp eyes of his were trapped in a daze. Nothing could destroy his absorption of eye-candy.

Or at least he couldn't see it yet.

He sensed his collar being seized by a powerful force. The boy saved his grip on his peeping invention as his body slipped from his perch. Pinching his eyes shut, the next thing he felt was a blow to his spine and a wave of dust spraying his face. The predator had fallen prey in one sweeping action. It was apparent.

After perceiving nothing but an awkward silence, Jiraiya slowly fluttered his eyes open.

"You thought I wouldn't find you? What do you think you're doing over here? The academy's on the other side of the village, you fool." The boy met a familiar face looming over his sight. Sarutobi pounded the reality into his student with a harsh tone and a seething scowl. He could've scared children away with his infamous 'glare like the death god himself'.

Jiraiya managed to reflect an irate expression back up to his teacher. "Why'd you have to go and bug me, sensei? Now I have to find someone else."

"This should be nothing you need to worry about right now."

"But I was going to go later. It's not like I would miss it entirely."

"Don't give me that. Last time you missed three quarters of the Nidaime's endorsement ceremony. I'll have no more of it."

Jiraiya slowly climbed to his feet and automatically began patting his shoulders to expel the soil from his gi. "Fine, alright. I'll go." He stared at the ground with a puckered brow. "See you there."

His actions were once again seized by a hand snatching his collar. Jiraiya gave a glare to his master at his wake.

Sarutobi replied with a glower. "Whether you like it or not, I'll be _escorting_ you as well."

-

One fortunate fact about attending a service late. There are no massive hindrances at the entrance.

"Sarutobi-sama?" The door usher to the academy had spoken to the duo approaching the building access. Sarutobi steadied his dash to a light jog, with Jiraiya being forced to travel ahead of him and stay in view. He wasn't to escape again. "You're late."

"Has it already started?" The teacher asked.

" _No_," Jiraiya interrupted. "Nobody decided to come. _Of course_ it has."

Sarutobi witnessed his student's sarcasm, but thought it best not to reply.

"This way." The usher loyally led the two into the main hall. This academy was a meek substance of dark wood, hardly concentrated upon to display a shined finish at all. Slivers of the dull timber lined every wall of the vestibule, from the wooden floor to the beamed wooden ceiling. The construction's natural material introduced a delicate scent of pine that slammed into anyone who entered the edifice. Decorations were scarce, with only a few scattered banners and framed images. It was meaningless for any artificial light, as the southern windows were more than enough to cheer up the lobby. The company quickly journeyed down a branching breezeway, without a contemplation of the ambiance. There was a more important goal in mind.

-

"From yesterday's announcement, you all probably know what this is going to be about. This is inescapably important. As you should know an opportunity is coming your way. One you should've perceived ever since you first placed the hetai-ate over your brow."

"Jiraiya's late again? For _this_? I can't believe it." A fair-haired Kunoichi glanced to her right, meeting the presence of no one near. She endeavored to limit her tone of voice to a hissing whisper, so she would not interrupt the Shinobi who respectively had the floor. She kept her seat while skimming the other occupied pews, with no avail of finding her missing person. It was difficult to locate anyone throughout a murky space of scattered Genin ninja anyhow. The room was a rather warm chamber; the west wall was lined in wooden pews and a small balcony whilst the opposite end held the scaffold. Every window was half-shaded. Only a minority of lights were activated, the few illuminating the platform. One's attention was almost driven to pay interest to the stand.

"Try not to worry about him, Tsunade."

The Kunoichi, Tsunade, caught the soft proclamation of her second teammate at her left. She straightened back in her place and planted a gaze upon the central spokesman.

"You're rising up through ranks. The Chuunin examinations are only a few weeks away. This title is held as moral on many levels." This orator was highly presumed to be a Shinobi proctor and a teacher of the institute. The standard jade flak jacket he wore was adjusted properly and modestly. His blond mane swathed lightly over a burnished metal headband above his brow, engraved with the village's prodigious emblem. A firm, yet compassionate young face, he was determined to convey a well-meaning implication to the adored students he had watched grow for a pleasant sum of years. "A Chuunin is fully capable of serving the role of captain and leader. No longer do they require a guardian to oversee them. Naturally, their duties increase in responsibility and danger. The risks swell while the refuges slims. I hope every one of you understands the trials that are forthcoming."

Inclining over the upper gallery banister, a white haired lad weakly listened to the orator while resting his chin upon folded arms. His sensei supervised from behind. _Chuunin exams_. He mulled over in his head.

"You shouldn't be upset, but resolute on the goal." The spokesman continued. His lips curled into a gentle beam. "It was a privilege coaching all of you and seeing you climb to new peaks. This is but another jump in your existence as Konohagakure Shinobi, not an obstacle. Good luck to all of you. You'll need it."

The proctor drew away from the pedestal, allowing a greater man to seize the floor. In all of his fame was presented the Nidaime. Sarutobi raised his attention span to his own teacher and reflexively slanted over the railing next to Jiraiya.

The Second's humorless face was immediately flushed with the main light of the scaffold. He kept his head bowed and his eyes shut for a moment. Without a sound. The Nidaime, completely submerged in his own thoughts. Something fundamental needed to be heard; it could be smelled all over his manifestation.

The audience was listening.

Nidaime asked of the mass, "does everyone here know why we do this? Why we train and award you titles? Why we encourage the art of Shinobi?" He left the speech dangling at a pause, allowing the assembly to weigh up. Nidaime glanced to a shadowed official at his left without rotating his head. He came back to the crowd of Genin, then released a soft sigh. This was not a nervous exhale. Something was grieving the leader. Sarutobi lifted his head a little. He had noticed the Second's peculiar behavior.

"For the sake of war this village arms itself with statuses and positions to defend Konoha's stand in power over our lands. It also brings a sense of civility and brilliance to our society. By awarding you ranks we are certain you are capable of dangerous combat and perform effectively in martial affairs, on behalf of our home's worth. This is international, and it's important."

Every member of the gathering was slowly being drawn into the lecture. Some were fearful of his next words, others were bemused, a fraction was completely electrified with the message. As an example, Tsunade leisurely tilted out from her seat, wide eyed and focused. Others did the same, pondering what under the heavens could their leader be getting to. Was this not supposed to be a simple congratulations sermon?

"The world can be misunderstanding, and a boiling pot for bloodshed. As full-fledged Shinobi you should be familiar with this. Now, it's your opportunity to serve the Will of Fire efficiently, by taking the responsibility of a genuine ninja."

"A... burden, is nearing. Preparedness is all I ask of you. That is all I have for this party. Fondest wishes." Yes, he had left the proclamation at that and headed for the stage exit rather peacefully, even with a sense of haste. Sarutobi watched in horror as his master departed the meeting through the door. A few Shinobi on the stage followed him out.

With the Nidaime's absence, there followed a wave of raucous chatting throughout the chamber. Questions were molding and anxiety was fluctuating, restless Genin began to shuffle out of the span as some retained their seats and conversed fervently with their neighbors. It wasn't a bombshell that nearly everyone noted the Second's odd performance.

Unable to escape the crowd for the time being, Tsunade kept her seat, watching the others saunter past her and her partner. She monitored the room as if it was going to swallow her.

Jiraiya whirled over to his lingering teacher. "Sensei?" Obviously he was baffled, but not to the extent as Sarutobi. He was practically looking to his tutor for some sort of decisive answer, but the man's face was veiled with downright alarm, nothing could be picked up, with the exemption of the fact that something was utterly amiss.

Sarutobi was perplexed, and possibly betrayed...

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To be honest, guys, I am at a complete dead end on this story. There are indeed, many scenarios that I wish to enter into _Ougonjidai_, but I'm stuck on where to go to next. I was thinking about skipping to the times after the Sannin had become Chuunin, or is that a bad idea? I hope I get support and ideas on this story sometime. It really helps for feedback. Thanks.


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